


With every heartbeat I have left I'll defend your every breath

by kweenkales



Series: The world is brighter than the sun, now that you're here---BruDick [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Basically a lot of angst with a happy ending, Boys In Love, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Brudick - Freeform, Clark Kent is Superman, Coming Out, Dick Grayson is Robin, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Injured bruce wayne, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, No Smut, One Shot, Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Clark Kent, Protective Dick Grayson, Rated teen for language, They're all protective tbh, True Love, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-11 20:44:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20159833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kweenkales/pseuds/kweenkales
Summary: In which Bruce gets injured while on a League mission, Dick is distraught and worried about Bruce, and Clark sees something he's not meant to see.





	With every heartbeat I have left I'll defend your every breath

**Author's Note:**

> Here's part 3!!! This takes place not long after "I was a billion little pieces..." Dick is 15.
> 
> Enjoy!

Bruce didn’t leave Dick behind very often.

He always took Dick with him on patrol, except for when he was sick or had a big test the next day. Even if they were facing one of Gotham’s heavy hitters, Bruce brought him along; because after all, Batman needed his Robin to watch his back.

What use was he if he was stuck at home while Bruce went up against the likes of Two Face and the Joker?

Dick knew that Bruce trusted him, that he was confident in his abilities to take down bad guys and to defend himself. He also knew that Bruce had a lot of unhappy adults (like Commissioner Gordon) and capes (most of the League) watching him—they weren’t happy that Bruce had brought a kid into _the life_. Dick didn’t think they really knew the whole story—that he would have gone out and tried to get justice for his parents whether Bruce trained him or not—but Bruce didn’t waste his breath trying to explain himself.

Sometimes Dick wondered if Bruce just didn’t care to correct them—that they would say what they wanted to say regardless, but then he figured that Bruce was also busy enough as it was what with running a company and being Gotham’s protector.

Despite all of this, Dick tried to be understanding with the other heroes. Keyword: _tried_. He did his best and he knew that he should be thankful that there were people interested in his well-being, but some days it made him so angry.

Bruce risked his life saving people every single day. Just because Bruce trained him and allowed him on the field as his partner didn’t mean he was a bad guardian. He took care of Dick, loved him.

How could any of them ever think that Bruce would be okay with him getting hurt? That Bruce had let him into the life never having considered the horrible things that could happen? Neither of them had gone into this partnership blindly and Dick knew better than anyone just how much his safety weighed on Bruce’s heart.

Dick knew that since Robin was the first ever protégé, they weren’t used to having a kid on the field. That it worried them. So he figured he had to show them just how good he was. They’d come around eventually. They would stop seeing him as some unexperienced kid, and believe in him like Bruce did.

The very rare times that Bruce would leave Dick behind were usually if B was responding to a Leaguer’s request for backup or some potentially world ending shin-dig where the entire League was called in.

Dick didn’t like watching him suit up without him and _definitely_ didn’t like the idea of Bruce going out there with no one to watch his back.

He told him so, scowling from where he was perched on the computer desk, and Bruce said, “The entire League will be there, Dick.”

“So, what? I should be there watching your back, Bruce. We’re partners!”

He was aware that he sounded a bit like a petulant child, but the idea of Bruce flying off to save the world and then never coming home was a very real fear of his that made his stomach and chest tie up in suffocating knots.

Bruce began to suit up and said, “I know how you feel about being left behind. If I thought it was safe for you-“

“Nothing we ever do is safe, Bruce!” Dick argued, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Bruce gave him a sharp look and said, “this is bigger than just you and I, Dick. You can’t come and that’s it. I’m not going to say anything else on the matter.”

He had slipped into the Batman voice halfway through his mini-lecture and Dick was hardwired to react to that voice and to obey without second guessing. But Dick was also feeling rebellious and upset about being left behind while Bruce prepared to head off an alien invasion with the League. He _couldn’t_ drop it yet.

“Why don’t you want me there?” he asked, chest aching.

_Did Bruce not think he could handle this?_

Bruce didn’t answer as he finished suiting up. His fingers moved across the suit quickly--closing clasps and pulling up zippers, and securing the armor and Kevlar into place.

He was very aware of Dick watching him check his utility belt, making sure it was fully equipped before fastening it around his hips, and he wished not for the first time that he knew what to say.

_You can’t come because I’ll be too worried about keeping you safe to focus on the mission._

_Please don’t ask me to put your life in danger._

_You shouldn’t be on the field. Maybe the League is right about me._

“Why don’t you want me there, Bruce?” Dick repeated, somewhat desperately now.

Bruce read it for what the plea was, a _tell me that you still want me_. But he had never been good with these sorts of things and he had felt as if he’d been running on a short fuse all day, ever since the news of the potential alien invasion had been reported by Lantern. He couldn’t handle the idea of something happening to this beautiful boy, his baby bird, because of a situation Bruce had put him in.

“I told you I’m not discussing it anymore, Dick! Don’t be a child!” Bruce snapped forcefully.

Dick reeled back as if he had been slapped. He felt like he had. Dick liked to think he had a pretty thick skin. People could say pretty much anything to him and it wouldn’t bother him. But Bruce? Bruce reminding him that he was a child? That got to him and it _hurt_.

It wasn’t often that he felt insecure in his relationship with Bruce. Bruce practically worshipped him. He let Dick call the shots. He respected him and treated him like an adult. Maybe that was why this particular instance hurt so much.

Dick felt blindsided and Bruce could see the raw hurt all over his boy’s face. As soon as the words had left Bruce’s mouth, he had felt a sharp stab of regret. And seeing that look on Dick’s face? His ribs hurt.

Dick deserved so much better.

“Dick, I-“ Bruce started to say, voice raw with emotion, but Dick choked out, “you should get going.”

“No, Dick, please. I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

And when Bruce moved forward, reaching out a hand to pull Dick into his chest, and Dick took a step back? Bruce’s heart fell into his stomach and shattered. He couldn’t finish what he was about to say because he was sure all of the oxygen had been sucked from the room and that someone was crushing his lungs.

If only that were true, it would have been far less painful than this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered lowly, eyes burning.

Dick reached up, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes and then he forced a weak smile, “Good luck out there, B.”

Bruce searched his eyes, wishing he had time to make things right. But every member of the League was sounding off over the comms, announcing their ETAs, and he really had to get there.

“I’m sorry. I have to… Can we talk about this later?” Bruce managed to rasp, tugging the cowl up and into place. Another wall he was pulling into place-- a way to become Batman and attempt to emotionally remove himself from the situation.

Dick nodded weakly, “sure, Batman. Whatever you want.”

That was like another painful cut to Bruce’s heart and he felt as if acid was being poured down his throat; but he forced himself to turn away, and to head for the bat plane before he changed his mind and said _fuck this alien invasion_ and begged for Dick’s forgiveness.

He knew he didn’t deserve it. He never would, but Dick was always so free with the love he gave. He would end up heartbroken one day. Maybe because of him.

It wasn’t until Bruce had started the bat plane and flown out of the hangar that Dick realized he hadn’t told him he loved him. Bruce could die today and the last conversation they would have had would be an argument.

Dick let out a slow breath, rubbing at his itching eyes, and tried to tell himself that Bruce would be fine. He may not have Dick there to watch his back, but he had a team made up almost completely of super-powered metas. _That was almost as good, wasn’t it?_

He slowly made his way up the stairs to the manor, closing the clock behind him. He didn’t know what to do with himself now. Did he just sit and wait for Bruce to return? Did he try to distract himself?

He ended up climbing into Bruce’s bed and burrowing under the blankets. He liked being surrounded by Bruce’s scent—it made him feel safe and calm; and helped him to forget, if just for a little while, that Bruce wasn't here.

That was how Alfred found him almost an hour later.

“Master Dick?” Alfred asked, pushing the door open.

“Hey, Alfie,” Dick murmured, voice small.

Alfred could barely see the boy’s face from under the mountain of blankets. He wasn’t used to seeing this downcast version of young Master Richard very often.

“Are you alright?”

Dick forced a smile, reaching up to push his hair out of his eyes, “I’m okay, Alfie. Just waiting for Bruce to get home. He had to help the League… Something about an alien invasion…? Couldn’t bring me along.”

“Ah, yes, I did hear that just a few moments ago on the radio,” Alfred confirmed, moving further into the room, “Would you like to help me bake some desserts? I had planned to make them tomorrow morning before afternoon tea, but I feel we both could use the distraction.”

Dick considered this and then wondered if it would make the time go by faster. Surely it had to. After all, Alfred was just as anxious to have Bruce home safe as he was. Laying here and staring at the wall would likely get old pretty quickly. Maybe a distraction would help him feel better.

“Sure, Alfred, I’ll be right down, ok?”

Alfred excused himself and Dick took another moment to breathe in Bruce’s scent from the bedding before he climbed out of bed. He shuffled across the room to the closet, digging through the drawers under the racks of hanging clothes in search of one of Bruce’s old college hoodies.

Dick curled his toes into the plush carpet as he pulled the sweatshirt on over his head, burying his nose in the sleeves and inhaling deeply. Wearing Bruce’s sweatshirt served to settle Dick’s nerves enough for him to head down to the kitchen with Alfred.

They baked plenty of different desserts. Dick suspected that Alfred hadn’t been planning on making any of these any time soon. Why would he be planning on making cheesecake and macaroons for afternoon tea? He had likely been saving them for company, but had decided they served a better use, and for the small distraction, Dick was thankful.

The time they spent waiting for Bruce passed dreadfully slow, as if time was inching forward and mocking them. Alfred turned on the TV a few times, just to check the progress the League was making, before turning it off. He claimed that it didn’t do either of them any good to watch a play by play of the action when there was nothing they could do to change it.

Dick thought bitterly _if I was out there as Robin, I could_, but kept it to himself.

Nearly ten hours after Bruce had flown out of the cave in the bat plane, they received an alert that there was an incoming transmission to the cave. When they reached the bat computer and Wonder Woman’s face appeared on the screen instead of Bruce’s, Dick’s stomach twisted anxiously and then dropped to his feet.

“Where’s Bruce?” Dick demanded immediately, not caring if he seemed like an impatient kid. He needed to know. _Something had to be wrong if Bruce wasn’t calling them himself_, Dick thought._ Or maybe he was helping with clean up._

Alfred rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly and then said, “Miss Prince, how delightful to see you.”

Wonder Woman gave a tired smile and said, “it’s good to see you Alfred, although I wish it were under better circumstances.”

_Oh, no_.

“Bruce is banged up pretty badly. He took several hard hits to the torso and abdomen, as well as another hit to the temple. He is lucky he was wearing the cowl. Kal says that there is no internal bleeding and is hopeful that he will wake soon with adequate rest. The last I knew is that he was unconscious. Perhaps you could contact Leslie Thompkins and request that she pay Bruce a visit in the Watchtower’s med-bay. I think it would set all of our minds at ease,” she explained.

Dick hated that she could say it all so calmly. His ears were ringing and his head was spinning. Bruce was in the watchtower, away from him, and unconscious!

_He could be in a coma, or have memory loss, or be bleeding internally and he didn’t-_

“I will give Leslie a call right away, Miss Prince. Thank you for updating us. Please let us know if there are any new developments.”

And how could Alfred be so calm about this? Dick felt like he was about to go into full blown hysterics—screaming, crying, the whole nine yards. This _wasn’t_ okay with him.

Wonder Woman must have replied because then Alfred was cutting the connection and saying, “Master Bruce will be alright, Master Dick. He has a hard head.”

That didn't make him feel any better.

“Why don’t we go upstairs? I need to give Leslie a call and you look as if you should sit down,” Alfred said gently, concerned eyes searching his face.

Dick swallowed hard, past the taste of bile in his mouth, and he managed to murmur, “No, I… I’m okay. I’m just going to wait down here, I think.”

Alfred stood there for another moment, searching his face, and then bowed his head, “if you’re sure. But do sit down. We don’t need you to take a hit on the head as well.”

The moment Alfred disappeared up the stairs and Dick heard the clock close behind him, Dick rushed to the zeta-beam on the lower level of the cave. He popped open the side panel of the control pad and set to work. In less than a minute, he had the zeta-beam hacked and was able to teleport to the watchtower under Batman’s designation.

If the circumstances were less dire he would have been so proud of himself; and he thought that maybe, if Bruce ended up being ok, he would enjoy seeing the look on his face when he told him that he’d managed to hack it under a minute.

Dick had only teleported with Bruce a handful of times, so when he opened his eyes and he was standing in the Watchtower, he had to give himself a moment to breathe deeply so that he wouldn’t be sick all over his feet.

He had never been to the Watchtower before, but he had studied the blueprints hundreds of times and knew where he was going. He didn’t even try to be sneaky about getting to the med-bay, he just ran. Bruce could yell at him for not wearing a mask, later.

As he ran through the halls, he was vaguely aware of some of the heroes that he passed, trying to speak to him or not quite believing their eyes. Exclamations of “hey, kid, what are you doing here?” and “how did a kid get up here?!” and “is that Batman’s kid?” met his ears, but he paid them no mind.

He reached the med-bay, quickly punching in Bruce’s pin and sighing in relief when the door clicked and slid open for him.

The med-bay on the Watchtower didn’t look very different from the one in the cave, except that it was three times the size and was divided into slightly smaller than average cubbies which were separated by curtains resembling those you’d find in a hospital.

It was easy to find Bruce since he was the only one there, everyone else having been patched up and sent home long ago, and Dick felt a mix of emotions upon seeing him.

He wasn’t pleased to see Superman standing at his bedside, but he was thrilled to see Bruce’s eyes open and that he seemed to be speaking with Superman.

He must have made some sort of noise upon finding them because Superman turned his head in surprise—and Dick would wonder later how the kryptonian didn’t hear him enter— and Bruce’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Dick?” Bruce asked, blinking a few times as if he wasn’t sure Dick was actually there.

Dick ran, clambering onto the bed with all of the grace befitting that of a new-born foal rather than that of a Flying Grayson, and throwing his arms around Bruce’s neck.

Bruce let out a soft grunt and Dick realized too late that he should have been more gentle. Bruce was in the med-bay and Wonder Woman had said that he’d taken several hits to the torso and abdomen. He should’ve been more careful.

He shifted as if to pull away, but Bruce tightened his grip on the boy in his arms, pulling him tight against his chest.

Bruce pressed his face into Dick’s hair-- breathing in the smell of the fruit shampoo that he liked, mixed with the smell of his own cologne, which Bruce belatedly realized was coming off of the sweatshirt Dick was wearing.

Dick leaned back slightly so he could take a good look at Bruce’s face and chest, and he turned a bit too white for Bruce’s liking upon seeing the bruising there.

Bruce reached up to tuck a strand of Dick’s hair behind his ear, stroking his thumb along the boy’s sharp cheekbone.

“I’m okay,” Bruce murmured, voice a bit rough.

Dick let out a choked noise, leaning his face into Bruce’s hand, “I was so scared B. Wonder Woman called and she said you weren’t awake and that you might need Leslie and we got in a fight before you left and I didn’t know if-“

“Shhhh, it’s alright. I’m alright,” he whispered, desperately trying to soothe his boy. He was clearly shaken and panicked and Bruce didn’t blame him.

Dick carefully brushed his fingers over the bruise that had already bloomed on Bruce’s temple, biting down hard on his lip to keep it from quivering.

“I’m okay,” Bruce repeated again, softer this time. He reached up, taking Dick’s smaller hand in his own and squeezing it gently.

Dick searched his eyes just to be sure, and then swallowed hard, nodding once as if to reassure himself.

“How did you get up here?” Bruce remembered to ask. The way Dick’s cheeks turned pink caught his interest right away.

He looked away, muttering something low under his breath, and Bruce raised an eyebrow, “what?”

Dick sighed and said, “I hacked the zeta-beam from the cave so that I could teleport here using your designation.”

There was a moment of silence where he let that sink in and then Bruce asked, “how long did that take you?”

Dick turned even pinker, if that was even possible, and muttered, “less than a minute.”

And Bruce’s chest felt like it could burst. He was so so proud and he felt his heart pounding hard and fast to prove it. His little bird was truly something else.

“Well, done,” he murmured, rubbing Dick’s shoulder.

Dick bit his lip, looking up at him through his eyelashes and if Bruce wasn’t on some pain-killers for his head, he was confident that he may have had a problem.

“Really?” Dick asked shyly.

“Really,” Bruce promised.

They stared at each other for a long moment-- Dick’s thumb rubbing soft circles into Bruce’s jaw, while Bruce carded his fingers through Dick’s hair.

The moment ended far sooner than either of them would have liked when they were thrust back into reality by a throat clearing.

They both turned and froze, realizing that Superman had been standing there ever since Dick came in. That he had bore witness to… whatever they had done.

Bruce turned his eyes back to Dick’s face, trying to remember if he had done anything really incriminating. Being close to Dick, loving Dick, it was all so natural to him. He wasn’t used to censoring his actions. He didn’t _know_.

Dick flicked his eyes across Bruce’s face before looking at Clark and then back to Bruce. He knew as well as Bruce did that they’d been caught and Superman did not look happy.

“Dick, can I speak with Bruce alone, please?” Superman asked him.

Dick hesitated, chewing anxiously on his cheek and glancing at Bruce. They hadn’t seen each other since their fight earlier and Bruce had almost died! He didn’t want to leave him already.

“Dick,” Bruce murmured lowly, thumb rubbing a soothing circle into the boy’s hand, “would you mind just stepping out for a minute?”

And Dick appreciated that so much, that he wasn’t ordering him out so the adults could talk. He was giving him the option. Dick hesitated for another moment before nodding weakly, sliding off of the cot and making his way to the door. He was very much aware that not a single sound was made behind him.

Bruce watched the door slide shut behind Dick, and then Clark wasted no time.

“What the fuck was that?” He spat furiously.

Bruce knew that Clark was mad. He could count the number of times he had dropped the F-Bomb on one hand.

He sighed lowly and muttered, “Clark-“

“Because it looked to me, Bruce,” Clark spat his name like it was poisonous, “that you have a romantic and sexual relationship with your child!”

Bruce gritted his teeth and growled, “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“You fucking better unless you want me to call the police on you for molesting a child!” Clark shouted.

“There’s no need to yell,” Bruce spat, heart pounding furiously.

He was glad that Dick had chosen to leave. He didn’t want him to have to deal with this. He would take it personally. He would get offended on Bruce’s behalf and that wasn’t what would help the situation.

“Jesus, Bruce,” Clark croaked, pressing his palms into his eyes and shaking his head, “please tell me that it’s not… That _you’re_ not…”

Bruce looked away from him for a long moment before meeting his eyes again and saying lowly, “He approached me-”

“Oh, my _god_.”

“-I’ve never done anything that he didn’t want.”

“He’s a child!” Clark hissed.

“If he’s old enough to risk his life-“

“You’re the only one that decided he was!”

Clark usually did a very good job of keeping his head. He didn’t have much of a temper. He liked to think he was pretty easy-going. He had to be to put up with Bruce’s grouchiness. But this? This was enough to set his blood boiling.

“Clark, you know me-“ Bruce started to say, but was cut off before he could finish.

“I thought I did! But now? I’m not so sure. I mean, Jesus, Bruce!”

Bruce closed his eyes for a long moment and then asked, “will you give me a chance to explain?”

Clark clenched his jaw, crossing his arms, and said lowly, “I thought you said you didn’t owe me an explanation.”

Bruce gritted his teeth together and hissed, “I am _not_ a child molester.”

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but Bruce raised his voice before he had the chance, “Goddammit, Kal, just listen to me for two fucking seconds!”

Clark stayed silent so Bruce continued, swallowing hard, “I have never. Ever. Done something that he didn’t want. He approached me. And I know that’s no excuse for this, trust me, I know. I’m the adult here. I’m the one that’s supposed to tell him no. But I…”

Bruce shook his head weakly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “But you try telling that boy no, Clark. You tell me how I tell him no. You tell me how! After… After he lost… everything.”

Clark had never seen Bruce cry. Ever. There had been horrible missions. Devastating missions where the number of those they had lost was catastrophic. And he had never cried. But now? He was weeping.

“He’s so good. He’s so good, Kal. He deserves…” Bruce trailed off shaking his head and blinking hard. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He had a difficult time explaining his feelings for Dick to Dick, let alone to fucking Superman who had just accused him of child molestation.

“He deserves the fucking world,” Bruce whispered, voice breaking, “and I know how this looks. I do, alright? I’m the man that has contingencies for everything. For every possible situation! And that boy out there?”

Bruce gave a small rueful smile, “I didn’t have a plan for him.”

Clark was still silent and Bruce was going to use that silence to his advantage. He would have liked just a moment to unscramble his thoughts, but he didn’t want to throw this away if it was the only chance he had to save the best thing in his life.

“I never thought that he would…” Bruce stopped himself before he could continue, clenching his jaw and then starting again on a different thought, “Dick is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He… He is light and he is sunshine, and he is everything to me. He is _everything,_ Kal. And I don’t deserve him. Jesus, of course I don’t! He deserves so much more than me. But I make him happy. I love him and I care for him and I make him _happy_.”

Bruce stared at Clark, and Clark couldn’t remember ever seeing Bruce look this desperate or this close to breaking down.

“If you don’t believe me, then ask him. Ask him whatever you want and he’ll tell you the truth. He hasn’t learned how to hide his lies yet so you’ll hear the fluctuations in his heartbeat. So if you don’t believe me, then ask him. He isn’t a helpless child. He is strong and independent and perfect. And he deserves far better than me.”

Bruce looked away from Clark then, clenching his jaw and glaring at the wall to the left. Clark took the opportunity to study him, to really look at him.

He knew that Bruce had learned how to master and control his body functions _years_ ago. He knew that he could lie with the best of them and get away with it almost one hundred percent of the time. But seeing this reaction from him? This raw emotion? That wasn’t something Bruce could manufacture.

Clark knew Bruce well enough to know that he didn’t do emotions and talking about his feelings. And seeing his hands shake, seeing his eyes get wet and hearing his voice tremble and break? That was raw and unfiltered Bruce. Clark knew in that moment that everything Bruce had told him had been the truth.

He swallowed hard, trying to wrap his head around all of the things that had come to light in the last ten minutes, and when he felt the anger simmering down, Clark found his voice.

“I’m sorry for calling you a child molester.”

Bruce froze and then turned his head towards him, blinking in surprise.

_That’s what the boy scout decided to talk about?_

“It was a reasonable accusation,” Bruce admitted lowly after a long moment of silence.

Clark rubbed at his face, trying to figure out where he wanted to start, and Bruce said, “I know you have questions. So ask them.”

Clark dropped his hands and searched Bruce’s eyes, asking, “how long?”

“He began hinting at it when he was 13, but nothing happened until he was 14.”

Clark swallowed audibly and managed to say, “so it’s been…”

“It will be a year in February.”

Bruce was met with a single nod and more silence. He was sure that Clark had a hundred more questions, but before he had the chance to ask any more of them, there was a timid knock and then Dick was peeking his head in.

“Uhmm… Bruce?”

Bruce felt his heart start beating faster at the sight and sound of his boy. It had been a long and horrible day and he just wanted to hold him.

“You can come here,” Bruce murmured, ignoring the way Clark’s eyes burned into his face. _Of course_ he had heard the change in his heart rate.

Dick hesitantly made his way further into the room, glancing between he and Clark.

“I… I’m sorry for interrupting. It’s just… Flash was talking really quickly and maybe offering to babysit, or something…? I’m not very sure.”

Bruce smiled affectionately at the puzzled look on his face and he said, “it’s alright,” before reaching a hand out to him. Dick climbed up onto the cot beside him, much more graceful this time than he had been the first time.

He glanced uncertainly between them again and asked softly, “is everything okay?”

Bruce didn’t have an answer for him, so he turned his gaze to Clark.

Clark’s eyes flicked between them a few times before settling on Dick as he said gently, “Bruce was… informing me of the… situation. I was caught pretty off guard.”

Dick tilted his head slightly to the side and Bruce had come to recognize it as the action Dick did before he said something particularly wise.

“You’re worried that Bruce is taking advantage of me.”

When Clark didn’t deny that, Dick continued, “Bruce has never touched me in a way that I didn’t want. He would rather die than hurt me.”

Clark sighed and murmured, “I hope you can see why I’m concerned.”

Dick shrugged, fingers playing with Bruce’s as he said, “sure, I do. It’s the same reasons everyone in the League doesn’t want me to be Robin.”

When Clark looked like he was about to object, Dick gave a small sad smile, “it’s okay. I think that maybe if I was an adult and there was some scrawny 13-year-old kid taking on guys four times his size, I’d have a problem with it too… But Bruce has my back, just like I have his. We’re best friends and partners, but we’re also lovers. And I…”

Dick smiled to himself, glancing down at their joined hands, “I’ve learned a lot in my fifteen years of life, you know. Almost all of it I’ve learned from my parents and from B. But I think the most important thing I’ve learned? That being best friends, and partners and also lovers is kind of the same thing.”

Dick turned his eyes to Bruce now and it was as if everything outside of themselves disappeared.

Dick reached up, carding his fingers through Bruce’s hair and he murmured, “my parents were best friends and they were partners, and they were also lovers. They trusted each other so much that every single night they’d throw themselves into the air with nothing to catch them but the other’s hands. And that’s like what Bruce and I do.”

Bruce was so in awe of this boy. How could anyone be so utterly perfect? He wanted to cry and yell and kiss the daylights out of him.

Dick tore his eyes from Bruce’s to look back at Clark as he concluded, “We’re soul mates, so we look out for each other.”

And it was that simple, wasn't it?

Clark looked as if he was having the same revelation that Bruce was—_how was this 13-year-old so wise and intelligent and perfect?_

Clark glanced between them a few times before sighing lowly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“Ok. I… I can see that the two of you have a connection that most people spend their entire lives waiting for and I… Life is short, and in this profession? Sometimes it can be even shorter. So as long as…” Clark shook his head and looked at both of them, “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Dick smiled brightly at Bruce and there his dimples were. His eyes sparkled happily, practically dancing, and Bruce wished he could drown in that beautiful grin.

“We do,” Dick promised.

Clark hovered for another moment as if he was going to say something else, but then stood.

“Dick, would you mind… Walking me to the door?”

Bruce had figured this was coming. But unfortunately for Clark, so did Dick.

“You’re going to tell me that if anything ever happens or if I ever need to get away I can call you, right?” he asked.

Clark stood there, mouth opening and closing a few times and blinking slow and dazzed-like.

“How did you…?”

“I was trained by the world's greatest detective,” Dick said as if it were obvious, and Bruce supposed to him it was.

Clark’s lips formed a small mirthful smile and he shook his head in disbelief, “alright, fine. I should have seen that coming. I’ll show myself out.”

He headed for the door, offering a, “heal up, quick, Bruce,” before slipping out the door and closing it behind him.

Once the door had closed, Dick turned his attention back to Bruce and Bruce gave into his desire to kiss that smile.

“Come here,” Bruce murmured lowly, hands reaching up to cup Dick’s cheeks.

Dick leaned into his touch and let his eyes fall closed as their lips came together in a soft kiss.

Dick stroked his fingers through Bruce’s hair, gently tugging, and when they pulled apart from each other the tiniest bit, Bruce murmured, “so tell me more about hacking the zeta-beam designation in under a minute.”

He was met with sounds of Dick’s laughter—beautiful, bubbly and sounding like pure sunshine, and he thanked God that he got to hear that sound every single day.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!!! 
> 
> I tried to write it so that Dick thinks of Kal as "Superman" while Bruce thinks of him as Kal or Clark. I just like the idea of Bruce pressing the no names when you're on the field (or in the watchtower??) thing with Dick, and also just like considering that distinction. Bruce has worked with Kal, he's seen him at his best and at his worst when he gets his ass kicked, but Dick still kind of sees him (and Wonder Woman) as these powerful heroes (and adults). Bruce is just proud of his little bean remembering the no names rule and being so respectful to his elders IG, lol!
> 
> Remember, writers thrive of comments and feedback! :P Thanks for all of the love! 
> 
> Title of the work is from Sleeping At Last's song "Light"


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